


The Husbandman

by morrezela



Series: The Husbandman [1]
Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Arranged Marriage, Barebacking, Gods, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Science Fiction & Fantasy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-06
Updated: 2013-03-06
Packaged: 2017-12-04 10:47:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/709908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morrezela/pseuds/morrezela
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All his life Jensen has been followed around by a pack of dogs. What nobody ever told him was that it was a sign of the mystical favor of the huntsman.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Husbandman

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: dub-con, slight leather kink, barebacking , bottom!Jensen
> 
> his was written for a prompt on spn_kinkmeme. All mistakes that you find are my own.

It all started very innocently. Jensen was two. There was a scraggly and lost looking puppy at the edge of his parent’s yard. He went over to pet it, and it followed him back to the house.

His mother had thrown a fit and tossed the poor little fella out on his sort of bony and bedraggled puppy ass.

“Dogs,” she’d huffed to the chubby toddler that Jensen had been, “are meant to be outdoors, Jensen Ross.”

He’d been two, so her admonishment didn’t really sink in, but she’d repeated it often enough in the intervening years that it had become a literal mantra in the Ackles household.

Truthfully, being followed around by dogs had been fun when he’d been younger. Jensen was reticent by nature. Much to the shame of his elder brother and father, his feelings were easily hurt, and he’d been prone to bury his nose into the fur of whatever dog had been nearby and sob his little boy heart out. He wasn’t outgoing. He was, however, artistic and comely.

The only reason that other little boys and girls came to see him were the dogs that milled around. They were drawn, as most children were, to play with the various and sundry dogs that Jensen always had with him. In a way it was more like they wanted to play with his pets, and the price for that was having to put up with the strange boy the animals favored.

Then puberty hit, and Jensen’s world uprooted itself. His chubbiness gave way to growing pains and a skinny body stretched tight over its own bones. Soon enough those bones began to give way to muscles as his sweet soprano of a boy’s voice gave way to the depths of a man’s.

His peers, both female and male, quit staring at him because he was odd and started staring at him for other reasons. Jensen knew what lust was, but he’d never been prepared to see it on other people’s faces in regards to his own person.

As his body gave up more and more of its childhood, the pack that followed him changed as well. The little daschunds, baying beagles and fearless terriers were replaced with towering wolfhounds, snarling shepherds and fearless terriers of a much larger size.

Jensen’s father joked that his son’s pack was growing in height along with him, but his eyes never quiet shared in the jocularity of his voice. Jensen’s mother just looked away and doubly admonished him not to let one single paw cross the threshold of her house.

As impressive as the new dogs were, Jensen missed the easy companionship of the little ones. His looks and his size might have changed, but he’d spent too long being the quiet one to alter who he was easily. As unmanly as it may have been, Jensen’s feelings were still easily hurt, and he still wished for a warm body to cuddle with and whisper all his fears to without worrying about rejection or admonishment.

He said as much to one of the hounds one day, and the next a small terrier bounced to his feet as soon as he exited the door of his parent’s home.

Logic should have dictated that he should be disturbed by this, but Jensen had just been too happy at the time to question his good turn of fortune.

Years passed as they always do. Jensen learned the reliable craft of blacksmithing though he preferred to call it metal working as it sounded less bleak. It was solid, stable work even though he’d have rather taken up minstreling or story writing. His parents had looked on him with horror at the thought, and as he’d never been a particularly rebellious child, he’d ceded to their wishes.

Still, his metal strings for lutes and fiddles were becoming quite popular over the gut strings and animal tendons that the musicians used before. The other day he’d even sold his silver flute to the piper that had been going through town. The man had been ecstatic to have something more durable than a wooden reed, and had been impressed with the clear tone that the metal had provided.

It was maybe a rebellion, in a sense, but it was a little one, so his family took no notice.

The pack grew more diverse as he aged. Some days there were many, others there was nary a yip until late in the evening. He had attempted to seek answers about the dogs as he aged, but even the old woman in the cove could give him no answer. Or, more accurately, she would give him no answer.

If the local distributor of gossip for the last four generations would not spill a secret, Jensen was doomed to keep living in ignorance.

Eventually he made enough to build a living wing onto his tiny shop and leave his parent’s home. It was freeing, but he followed his mother’s words and kept the hounds from entering his personal area. He could ill afford to have his one rug and old quilt ruined by the muddy paws and drooling mouths of his pack.

Of course, that didn’t mean that he couldn’t allow them to sleep on the floor of his shop. His hearth was open anyway to allow the excessive heat out. It was nothing more than a covering roof so they were technically still outdoors.

Besides, he liked the company. When he wasn’t working, it was easier to read in the more spacious area of his shop than it was in the cramped sleeping area that he was audaciously called his home. He had no kitchen, instead preparing his meals by placing them strategically inside the heat radius of his furnace. That the dogs were there to keep him company and beg for scraps was an excusable coincidence.

His mother tsked him whenever she came to visit. Both she and his father admonished him to find a wife who could properly cook for him, but Jensen would do no such thing. He wanted to provide a home worthy of living in before he married some woman. It was unthinkable for him to be one of those brutes who expected his lover to try to make a home out of a hovel.

He saved all that he could, and eventually was able to purchase a small cottage at the edge of the woods. It was rather picturesque, and Jensen was surprised that the family who owned it was willing to part with it. The roof needed repairs, but the inside was clean and had a fair bit of stone work done. It had actual floors instead of packed dirt, so over all it was quite a nice place.

His family was more than happy to help furbish his new residence. It was almost as if he were a girl being given a dowry for all the items that they brought him. His mother even gave him a kettle despite the fact that he was perfectly capable of crafting one himself.

Yes, his major source of income came from the jewelry and pretty hair clips that he sold to cooing young women and desperate men of all ages. That didn’t mean that he didn’t know how to stoke his fires higher and bang out simple cookware.

Saying anything about it was out of the question. Jensen knew that the gifts were meant as incentives for him to start courting. It was past time for him to take a lover and make a family of his own, and much as it rankled him, his parents were right.

Courting was a nasty business, mothers and fathers and daughters who were either desperate or frighteningly young all vied for his hand and more troubling, his bed. Jensen was appalled at how many were more than willing to sacrifice their virginity to him. Worse, how many parents were willing to allow him to lay with their daughters in the hopes of securing an advantageous alliance. Many had sworn that he’d not find the young lady’s charms lacking should he sample of them.

The entire thing was quite draining, and Jensen was more than happy to return to his cottage, blessedly single, and sit on his front step with his dogs about him.

He took to feigning tiredness and stayed long hours at his shop in order to claim exhaustion. His inventory and quality prospered for his over diligence, even if his body did not.

Avoiding being a suitor surprisingly did not end his matrimonial troubles. It seemed that if he were not the chaser he would become the chased.

The men that trailed into his shop were terrifying in their variety. Some were smooth and subtle others were jovial and exuberant, yet others would come and run their fingers over Jensen’s famed silver flutes in suggestive manners while staring at Jensen’s leather work apron as if it held three women’s worth of bosoms.

The one time that one of his suitors attempted to actually touch him, the old bloodhound in the corner launched itself out of its laze and bit him. The man had the unmitigated gall to slap the grizzly old beast, and before Jensen had a chance to react, the whole pack was upon him.

They pursued the man all around the cobbled streets of the town. Snarling, yapping and baying, they eventually forced him to the river.

Jensen fully expected the council to come to him about that one. Though he didn’t solicit the attention of the pack, he couldn’t remember a time when they hadn’t been referred to as “Jensen’s pack.” No censure came, although the suitors did drop in number once they realized that for reserved as Jensen was, his dogs would defend him before he even had a chance to defend himself.

It was probably a good thing. Jensen spent his days hammering metal into shape. His arms were very muscular. He’d probably cause a good bit of damage if he actually hit another person.

Life continued on. Fall became winter became spring became summer and so forth and so on until one very hot summer day turned into one very stormy summer night.

As lightning flashed outside Jensen’s windows and hail peppered in with the heavy rainfall, Jensen could hear the restless shifting and whimpers of the pack right outside his front door. He tried to hold to what his mother had always said and everything he had learned, but after a rather nasty boom of thunder caused one of the pack to cry out in fear, Jensen couldn’t help himself.

To their credit, the pack didn’t instantly clamber into his house the moment that he swung the door open. Instead they stared at him with their large brown eyes and soaked fur coats and made Jensen feel like the lowest form of scum he had ever encountered. He invited them in, and somehow every night following that one, they simply wormed their way through the door and slept by his kitchen hearth.

Consequently, Jensen quit inviting his mother over. What she didn’t know, she couldn’t scold him over.

When summer’s angry storms became autumn’s glorious colors, the dogs frolicked and played. They scented out squirrels and all manner of birds. Their ranks changed, older dogs coming in to replace some of the younger ones. It had always been so, though Jensen had never figured out why.

The old ones always came to him in the colder months of the year, and that was just the way that it was. He didn’t mind the change. The young ones were fun with their energy and vitality, but the old ones were good company. Now that they were regularly sleeping in his house, he could appreciate the lack of rambunctiousness.

Frosts inevitably came, and that was when a few of the more pushy members of the pack started to hint that there was maybe something better than a warm hearth that they could rest their tired bones by.

Jensen resisted. He did. His mother would string him up by his neck if he brought her his quilt to mend, and she found out it was the result of dog claws ripping at it. Sewing was not a talent of his, and he’d had enough of the young women in town. He had no desire to start any sort of relationship with one by asking her to fix the covering to his bed.

As with most things though, Jensen was a soft touch. It was cold, and he was cold as well, and letting a couple of the eldest dogs into the bedroom just sort of happened. The lack of room to turn over was offset by the extra warmth and the happy tails and barks when Jensen rose in the morning.

Overall, Jensen was rather content despite the lack of a spouse to keep him company. Life was good until he fell ill.

The first day of his sickness, Jensen struggled through his work and staggered home to sleep in a pile of bedding and concerned dogs. The second day, Jensen spent first thinking he was going to die and then hoping he would.

The third day Jensen awoke and felt better even if he was as weak as a newborn kitten. The odd thought did cross his mind that he was glad that he was not a kitten as he was surrounded by very large dogs, but that was quickly eclipsed by the horrified gasp that his brother made from the doorway of Jensen’s bedroom.

His absence at his shop had been noticed the prior day, and his brother had come to check on him.

It would have been a touching display of concern if not for the fact that Jensen’s brother had a big mouth and proceeded to tell everyone he knew that Jensen had let mongrels into not only his house, not only his bedroom, but his own bed as well.

Frankly Jensen just wanted to tell the collective town to shut up about the damn dogs. It wasn’t any of their damn business, and they were all heartless bastards anyway. Those dogs had been more attentive and caring than any of Jensen’s so called friends over the years.

As he convalesced, he stewed on the subject more and more until he outright refused to allow any of his relatives to remove any of his pack from his residence. They grumbled and complained about having to play servant to the ‘mongrels’ as they had to let them in and out of the house whenever the whim struck.

Jensen took private pleasure in their distress. He wasn’t proud of it, but they’d been causing him his own portion of discomfort over the years. The least that they could do was help him out with his dogs.

Eventually Jensen grew healthy. While he did begin to feel the stirrings of guilt for feeling good about the whole vengeance against his family thing, those feelings were pushed to the back of his mind when he was summoned before the council.

He trembled and shook as he approached the old building that housed the council chambers. It was the oldest in the village. Left over from a time when Jensen’s people had been nomads seeking a land of their own, it was rumored that the chieftain’s tent once rested where it did. As they settled and their politics changed from dictatorship to a more genial system, the barbaric tent of wildly dyed leathers was replaced with a building.

The north wall of the building was built straight into the side of a mountain. The elders swore that it was to show the permanence of their people, but in Jensen’s opinion, it really only served to make the council chambers perpetually cold. Then again, it was fitting because the council had always seemed to be cold and uncaring. They acted as if there was an axe constantly hanging above their heads ready to sweep down and chop.

Swallowing down his fears, Jensen waited for the council members to assemble. His eyes traced the patterns on the now faded leather scraps that were hung prominently in the room. The last vestiges of the tent that used to be in this place, it showed a piecemeal scene of what appeared to be a great hunt. The leather had always disturbed Jensen because it ended abruptly with the hunters apparently pinning down a woman and her newborn child. The byproducts of her labor were puddle around her feet, and over all it was one of the most disturbing pieces of artwork that Jensen had ever set eyes upon.

When he’d asked about it, his father had only assured him that the final scenes had been lost over time. There was no need to worry about it. Jensen had nodded. He’d been a dutiful son and allowed the subject to drop, but he could still remember the tension in his father’s eyes when he spoke.

“Jensen,” a warm voice interrupted Jensen’s thoughts.

Turning around, he could see that the council had finally meandered their way into the room. Instead of taking their normal seats though, they moved to stand near him and stared at the same leather work.

“His name is Jared.” The eldest councilman stated, his hand daring to reach out and actually touch the sacred skins.

“Is?” Jensen said, curiosity overriding his inbred sense of quiet and respect.

“Is,” the councilwoman to his left confirmed.

“But…”

“Hush, boy, and let the man tell his story. You know how Jeffery does like to ramble,” a third council member admonished.

“Long ago, when we were a people without a land, we were chased by every clan that we crossed paths with. Our children were weak and often died. Our mothers grew sick in body and mind as their babies were buried in foreign soils, and they were forced to move on at the spears and swords of unfriendly territories.”

“We settled once or twice, maybe even three times, but the skins are too worn now to know for certain. The fact is that each time we claimed a land for our own, we would be chased out by a larger tribe.”

Jensen nodded, but kept his mouth shut. He had been taught tribal history at the knee of his grandfather, but the retelling seemed to be important the council.

“You know, as our children do, that we settled here and have stayed ever since - changing from tribe to people. What you do not know is what has kept our enemies at bay.”

“Jared?” Jensen hazarded a guess. Jeffery glared at him, and Jensen took that to mean that he had spoiled the end of Jeffery’s story.

The older man harrumphed and pointed to the beginning of the skins. “This land was rumored to be a dark wasteland. Ruled by supernatural creatures and magical beings more terrifying than the plagues and sicknesses that chased other peoples in calmer lands, it was best left alone. But our people had nowhere left to go. The woods were thick and verdant. The mines, as you well know, were plentiful with jewels and metals, and the springs were sweet. As our people roamed, we discovered that there were no satyrs or nymphs, only deep forests and strange animals.”

“We once again settled, but as always we were soon receiving the threats of other peoples. Once we proved that there was no magic curse on the land, others wanted it for themselves. We fashioned as many weapons as we could, but our enemies became too many. Our chief was considering flight to spare our lives when he heard of the huntress. She lived at the top of the mountain. Her powers, they said, were stronger than those of our enemies, and she gave her boon to no man. Her hate of humans was strong.”

“But the lady huntress was with child, and if there was one thing that our people knew intimately, it was the desire of a mother to do anything to save her offspring. The weapons masters slaved away while our wise women and elders devised plans.”

“Spies were sent to observe the lady. Those who came too close perished, but enough remained that when the lady started her labor pains, they were able to return to the clan and inform the chief. Travailing as she was, the huntress still gave a good chase. She was fleet of foot even from horses and hounds, but eventually her son needed to be born, and she could move no longer.”

“Jared was birthed in the woods. When the hunting party caught up to her, the infant boy was covered in dirt and debris, but he was hale and hearty, screaming his lungs out for all to hear. His mother was weak from the birth, and her son helpless. She had no choice but to broker a deal. She offered the destruction of the invading armies in exchange for the life of her son.”

Jensen nodded his understanding. “A good offer.”

Jeffery sighed heavily and gave Jensen a look that implied that he was maybe not the sharpest scythe in the harvesting field.

“A trick, Jensen. Huntsmen and women are not to be trusted. The chieftain rejected her offer, instead brokering the loyalty of her child. Once she destroyed our enemies, she would have been done with her end of the bargain. It would be nothing for her to teach her own child vengeance against us. He could easily give his favor to our enemies and we would be dead within a fortnight of him reaching his majority.”

“She was not happy with the chieftain’s demand of loyalty, but agreed on the stipulation that if her son was to have his affections tied to this people and land, our mothers would provide him with his mate. It was then that our ancestors failed us, for they agreed.”

“I don’t understand.” Jensen said, his face twisting in confusion.

“The forest around us teams with life, Jensen. It is unnatural and strong. When a huntsman takes a spouse, their powers grow. They attract all manner of supernatural creatures to their land. Satyrs and nymphs will dance in our woods. Fairies will flit about in our gardens and mermaids will swim in our waters. We will become worse than the outcasts of old; we will become prisoners in our own land.”

Jensen shook his head. “Why have I not heard of this before? What does this have to do with me?”

“When Jared wishes to try for a mate, he informs the council of his intentions. All those who know the truth are forbidden to speak of it in front of the children of the village. Eventually a child will be born that will be known as Jared’s intended. His mate must favor him above all others. The huntsman’s spouse will cherish that which Jared does and will suffer the touch of no other upon her skin.”

“But she must do this without knowledge of what she is doing. It must be her inner character. He will have it no other way and will abide no falseness in his marriage bed. Over the course of the years, Jared has had many favored, but all have failed his tests.”

“I…”

Jeffery raised a hand to cut Jensen off. “When Jared has chosen his favored, a pack of dogs will begin to follow her. It is a sign of his protection and devotion.”

Jensen felt himself blanch before the blood rushed back to his face to make him blush. “But… I am not a woman.”

“You are the first male that has attracted his attention, but it was part of our agreement with his mother that we allow such things in our village. Surely you have seen the looks on outsiders when they view such couplings? It is not normal in human villages to encourage a man to marry another or a woman to lay down with another.”

“You said ‘she.’ You said that Jared’s mate was a ‘her.’” Jensen protested.

“As I said, we have no idea why he chose you when it has always been women before. What we do know is that you are the first child to not give way to the flesh of another, and you are most certainly first to take his hounds in as your own. There was hope as long as they stayed outside your sleeping quarters, but allowing them in your bedroom was a clear invitation for Jared to do the same. You, in effect, accepted his proposal.”

“But I didn’t know! Why didn’t anybody tell me?”

“Tell you? And risk the wrath of Jared by breaking our people’s agreement?”

“You don’t think you haven’t already done that? Luring his chosen away by tempting them with willing bodies and familial demands?” Jensen snapped back.

The council took a collective gasp around him, and despair showed in their eyes. They said nothing, and Jensen turned to look at each of their faces.

“Say something!” He demanded.

“What is there to say?” The eldest of the council asked, her voice thin and reedy. “You begin to defend him already. We are truly doomed. We forgive you for it is in your nature, but you cannot expect us to rejoice over the sight of our jailor.”

Jensen felt his left eye twitch in irritation and had to clench his jaw to keep from yelling at the old woman.

“Go home, Jensen. Jared awaits your arrival.” Jeffery told him.

Jensen glared at the councilman, but did as he said anyway. There was nothing left for him in that room.

The walk back to his cottage was odd. The dogs that he had left outside the council chambers were, for the first time in his memory, not there when he exited. He swore that he felt the eye of every villager upon his form as he made his trek, but he knew that was impossible.

At least two of them were blind after all.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The door to his home was ajar when he reached it, and there was a cacophony of barking and yipping and whining and all manner of dog noises coming from inside.

Taking a deep breath for fortitude, Jensen crossed the threshold of his own home.

His first thought was that there was a giant sitting at his kitchen table. Jared, for who else could it be, was large. His hair was thick as a wolf’s pelt and the color of tree bark. His nose was funny and had a mole by it. Jensen was going to focus on that mole if it was the last thing he did. He needed something to think about besides the fact that this man was going to use him to destroy his own people.

Jared’s eyes flicked up to look at Jensen. His mouth split into a wide grin, and Jensen felt himself freeze at the sight. The tilted eyes of a fox and the grin of one as well. There was trickster in the man’s blood for certain. Not a full huntsman at all, but then again, the council hadn’t mentioned ever asking who Jared’s father was.

“Out,” Jared commanded, and Jensen half turned to leave.

Jared’s chuckle echoed into the rafters of Jensen’s small cabin. “Not you, little one, the pack.”

Jensen blushed and lifted his chin defiantly to cover the motion. He was a man, and he wasn’t going to let this mystical guardian and harbinger of doom just walk all over him.

“I am not ‘little;’ you’re just a giant.”

“Not a drop of giant’s blood in me. I wouldn’t be so handsome if there was.” Jared said as he followed his dogs, closing the door after the last straggler had departed.

Jensen swallowed nervously. With the dogs gone, he didn’t have anything to distract his senses away from Jared. The man was even more imposing standing than he had been sitting down. His legs seemed slim, but the rest of him was thick and muscular. His legs were encased in soft leathers that were the color of golden wheat. His manhood bulged at the apex of his thighs, and Jensen didn’t know whether he was more horrified at the thought that the man was indecently half hard or if he might just be that big while flaccid.

“You,” Jared continued, “are very much not a giant. If I didn’t know any better, I’d swear you had siren’s blood in you - too beautiful by far and a voice that could call rivers to you if not oceans.”

“Thank you?” Jensen asked, stepping backwards as Jared advanced on him.

Jared paused his steps. “You are scared of me.”

Jensen bit his lip and debated answering truthfully, but there wasn’t a way to actually deny Jared’s assertion. He shrugged his shoulders instead of opening his mouth to answer.

“Why?” Jared sounded confused and just a touch upset.

“Well, I mean, don’t take this the wrong way, but I kind of like the people around here even if a lot of them weren’t the nicest to me growing up.”

“But you showed no signs of… you haven’t bedded any of them despite their rather obvious efforts. Now you tell me you wish to mate with one of them?”

“Mate? Uh, no, but I’m not really into the whole… you know.”

Jared’s large forehead wrinkled. It wasn’t a very attractive look, but it did give him the appearance of some of his hounds.

“I do not understand what you are talking about. You were promised to me long ago, and you accepted all of my proposals. We are betrothed and should consummate our union to bring our ancestor’s agreements to fruition.”

“Yes. That! See, I didn’t know those were proposals.”

“Of course you didn’t,” Jared said with a smile, “that was the whole point. You had to make the choices that were in your heart to make. In absence of wooing, I had to be certain of your character. I can’t very well have a spouse that cares only for the wellbeing of the villagers, now can I? And to declare myself would have only encouraged falsehood. Humans are not above lying to obtain an advantageous match, and there have been many that failed the test before you.”

“Right. About that, I’m not a girl. I know that some of the brutes that frequent the tavern say that I look like one, but…”

Jared’s laugh boomed out once more. “I am well aware of your maleness. Such things have never been a concern to me.”

“The council said differently.”

“Your council is full of fear mongering dullards. I’ll have you know that I despaired of ever finding a spouse with the small mindedness that they encourage their people to have.”

Jensen couldn’t exactly disagree with him as he knew little of the world beyond the borders of his home, but he was certain there was a significance to the prior female candidates.

“All those before me were women.”

“Mmm, and you think this my choice?” Jared asked, a funny little smile now twisting on his lips.

“They were your favored.”

“Yes, they were, but they chose themselves.”

“I do not understand.”

“The people of the village long ago quit allowing dogs inside their homes because they knew of my fondness for them. They were convinced that my little angels were spies that I was using. But human children have a certain instinctive fondness for puppies that their parents can rarely work out of them until they are older.”

“So I put a clearly distressed puppy at the edge of the woods. Many children ignore him or obey their parents and leave it alone. The one whose heart cares enough to come to its aid? Well that one earns my favor for that act of kindness. It isn’t my fault that it was always a girl that found the pup in the past. Truly, Jensen, you chose yourself.”

“I was two! I don’t even remember doing that!” Jensen protested.

“I know. So big a heart at so young an age, I was impressed.”

“I wasn’t of any sort of age to make that sort of commitment.”

Jared nodded in agreement. “True, but that is why the trials keep coming, and you didn’t fail a one of them. Not even the ones devised by your own people to lure you away from me. It is amusing that they think they have been robbing me of my due all these years when they’ve actually been assisting me.”

“But I didn’t know.”

“You know now, and you are not running.” Jared pointed out. “In fact I dare say that you aren’t completely displeased with the notion.”

“Whatever it pleases you to think, my lord.” Jensen scoffed.

“That would be much more believable if you could remove your eyes from my crotch. You’re giving me ideas.”

Jensen jerked his head and diverted his eyes to the pitted surface of the small wooden table that took up space in his kitchen. It wasn’t that he had meant to stare. It was just that the sight of Jared’s sex being so obvious was distracting in its impropriety.

“You are adorable.” Jared cooed. Jensen could hear the scrape of footsteps as Jared moved closer, and he knew that the sound was for his own benefit. Hunters knew how to move without making noise, he had to believe that a fabled mystical huntsman knew the same.

Even with the audible warning, Jensen found that he was rooted to his spot. Part of him did not want to move away from the huntsman’s approach.

Jared’s hand ghosted over Jensen’s arm in the barest of touches before he wrapped Jensen’s hand up in his own. His touch was warm and his hand practically swamped Jensen’s own. It was an odd feeling to be dwarfed by any other. Jensen had long been one of the tallest and strongest of the men in the village.

He refused to turn his gaze back towards Jared, but couldn’t hold back the tiniest gasp of surprise when Jared raised the captured hand to his lips and bestowed a kiss on the back of it.

Jensen yanked his hand out of Jared’s grasp and cradled it against his chest as if it had been burned. His cheeks certainly felt like they were on fire. He didn’t know what was wrong with him. There was a man in his very home who was trying to use him to become tyrant over the town, and Jensen was acting like a shy maiden with her first beau.

“No.” Jensen said as loud and as forcefully as he could.

“‘No,’ what?” Jared inquired in an almost bored tone. Jensen wondered if maybe the man was just being obtuse for the fun of it.

“I won’t let you use me like this. I have no desire to be your concubine that allows you to rule this land with your magic and your creatures.”

“I believe that we have a misunderstanding. First I want to use you to sate the lustful yearning of my body first, then I need somebody to help me govern the forest beyond the borders of your precious vilalge. Ruling is a tiresome business that humans worry over.”

Jensen shot him a scandalized look and frowned. “So you deny the plan to bring satyrs and nymphs and fairies to our land?” He avoided any mention of any lustful anything. Jared might be crude, but Jensen was above that.

“I have nothing to do with them. You on the other hand… well the forest needs managing, I don’t deny that. There are too many animals for the plants and the streams to satisfy. It keeps me rich in leathers and pelts, but the flora suffers greatly for it. And the rivers and lakes could use an influx of fish, so you may wish to call a few mermaids encourage school growth.”

“Me?”

“Well, yes. I’m a huntsman, Jensen. The forest needs a husbandman. It works out well for me as I need a husband. I can hunt and attack, but I cannot cultivate anything. It is the husbandman that calls for aid in growing the forest and encouraging new birth. And it is only a harpist who can calm the satyrs and nymphs into doing anything but frolicking with each other, so I should be glad that both are talents you possess.”

“I am not a harpist! I’m a blacksmith.” Jensen corrected.

“A function of your parents trying to keep you from coming to me,” said Jared dismissively. “Had you entered the forest at any point past your majority, I could have claimed you as my own. It would have been a sign that you searched for your destiny beyond the village, and would have been sufficient for me to declare that you were seeking out my companionship.”

“You do not wish to imprison my people?”

“Is that what they told you? I assure you it is untrue.”

“You would swear to this?”

Jared huffed and his large hand cupped Jensen’s cheek. It gripped and pulled until Jensen finally turned his face and eyes away from the tabletop and looked into the oddly shaped ones of the huntsman.

“I am already sworn to protect this land. I need give no further oath. The circumstance of that swearing may not have been the happiest, but it has long since passed. My tie is no more changeable than the hanging of the sun in the sky. But I crave a mate, and I am promised it by the same bargain that ties me here. Do you believe me undeserving of that comfort?”

“No.” Jensen admitted softly.

“But?”

“But I am mortal, and you are not.”

Jared grinned and pulled a leather cord around his neck. A small vial popped out from under his shirt. “This is for my spouse. Once we are bound together in soul, it will bind us together in body.”

“So I won’t die?”

“Not until I pass in any case. Nor would you grow old, in case you worry about living in the constant pain of age.” Jared held the vial out to Jensen. It dangled on its leather cord in slow, almost hypnotic motions.

Jensen sighed and pushed Jared’s hand away.

“And I should live together with you forever? I should watch as the people I know grow old and die? You ask too much.”

“I ask what is my due. I ask what you are already willing to give. I have not chosen lightly, and you cannot accuse me of trickery. I have never stopped you from taking another path. You think that it is different because you did not know that I courted you, or that you did not know that you were courting me. It is not different.” Jared argued as he slid the cord back over his neck.

Jensen scowled. He opened his mouth to dispute, but Jared covered it with his hand.

“I can see that logic will not garner me your favor. Perhaps I should try another method?” Jared’s lips twisted in merriment, and his damned fey eyes glinted.

Jensen grabbed hold of Jared’s wrist and pulled the offending hand away from his mouth, but Jared simply twisted in its grasp and somehow Jensen found that Jared was not only the one grasping one of Jensen’s wrists, but both. They were pinned rather inconveniently above his head against the wall that Jared had somehow backed him against.

Odd feelings clamored about inside of him, and the only one that Jensen could identify with any sort of certainty was shock. There wasn’t a man in the village who had the height and strength to pin him so efficiently, yet Jared didn’t even appear to be putting in an effort.

Jared looked at him for a moment before leaning forward and pressing his lips against Jensen’s. Jensen didn’t know why he did not struggle, but he suspected that there was some part of him that actually enjoyed being with the powerful creature. In some strange way he felt more attracted to Jared than he had any of the men and women that he had spent his whole life around.

Unthinkingly, Jensen opened his mouth to the constant pressure that Jared’s kept putting against it. The huntsman shoved his tongue in roughly. It trailed over Jensen’s teeth and tickled at the roof of his mouth.

Hampered as his movements were by Jared’s strength, Jensen tried to push at the invader with his own tongue, but it only managed to slide wetly against Jared’s. The feel of the action sent jitters of something down Jensen’s spine, and when Jared poked around again, he couldn’t stop himself from repeating his earlier movement.

Jared hummed in approval, and soon his warm bulk was pressing up against Jensen’s own. His leather breeches squeaked slightly as they rubbed against the cloth of Jensen’s clothing. It felt good. It felt unspeakably good, and Jensen was slightly ashamed at himself for enjoying it so. He had no proof that Jared was telling him anything but lies, yet he not only allowed the contact but encouraged it by tilting his hips ever so slightly upwards.

Jensen’s wrists were released, and Jared’s hands slid over his body. One came to rest on the back of his neck while the other curled around his hip. Jared’s thumb rubbed gently there, teasing the fabric back and forth against Jensen’s sensitive skin.

If he were a good son and a better man, Jensen would’ve taken the opportunity to shove the huntsman away. His hands had landed on the Jared’s shoulders, and given the way that Jared had curled his head down to mouth at Jensen’s lips, he was not in the most stable of positions.

But Jensen had never been as good of a son as he had aspired to be, so instead of shoving and punching, he slid one hand into Jared’s hair and the other around his surprisingly trim waist and pulled him closer instead of pushing him away.

Jared backed off from their kiss and buried his face against Jensen’s neck. His hips bucked against Jensen’s stomach before they started rolling and grinding. Each pointed thrust they stopped to make was punctuated with a nip to Jensen’s skin. To his embarrassment, the only thing that Jensen could do was gasp and moan at the pain and soon following pleasure.

His own sex began to throb in his breeches, and he fought against the urge to pull Jared even closer so that he might push against his thigh.

When Jared’s mouth came up against the collar of Jensen’s shirt, he leaned back a bit and stared down into Jensen’s eyes. It felt as if he was looking at Jensen’s very soul, and for a moment it was frightening.

“You will make a fine husband for me.” Jared growled as he rubbed his crotch more firmly against Jensen.

A whimper was all that Jensen could make in response. He could feel his undergarment slicking with the clear wetness that his cock would sometimes produce when he was about to come.

“I, in turn, will make an excellent spouse for you.” Jared purred as he reached down and cupped Jensen’s bulge.

Pleasure shot through Jensen’s system. He clamped his eyelids shut and tried to think around it, but it was as if all he could focus on was the way that Jared’s hand kept stroking over him.

Without warning, the pleasure stopped and Jared’s warmth moved away. Jensen was grateful for the wall behind him as he sagged against it.

“But perhaps I am wrong. Perhaps my touches and kisses are unwanted. Perhaps you have desire to share your bed with me, and I am demanding things that are not true of your character.” Jared said in an almost bored tone.

Jensen pried his eyes open to glare at him. The bastard. The council may not have made inquiries as to the nature or location of Jared’s father, but it was a given that his parents were not married.

“I assure you that my parents were secure in their fealty to each other and were very much married.” Jared said.

“You can read minds?”

“No. I am just familiar with that look. You wear it often towards your customers and call them illegitimate when they leave your place of business. The dogs find it funny and tell me about it.”

Jensen shrugged and looked down to think, only his eyes caught on Jared’s damnable crotch on the way down. The leather was stretched and straining around his cock. There was no disguising that it was huge, and instead of horror or even jealousy, Jensen felt his mouth water. He blushed and felt short of breath like some stupid and silly maiden, and his nipples began to ache where they rubbed against the material of his shirt.

“You shouldn’t keep looking there unless you want to give the big, bad guardian of your village nasty ideas about you.” Jared teased as he tilted his pelvis, pulling the leather impossibly tighter against his erection.

“I…”Jensen stopped and tried to think, but his eyes kept trailing back. He tried looking up at Jared’s face, but that only gave his heart a different sort of lurch that he was not going to identify. He had walked upon the Earth for too many years to believe in the more fanciful notions of love that young girls took themselves with, and he wasn’t about to start thinking himself one of those fools who fell in love at first sight.

The entire situation was absurd. How was he supposed to choose between a man who had provided his closest source of companionship for years and the village who was certain that their guardian would bring their destruction?

“All you have to do is ask, you know. I’ll not deny you.” Jared’s words were spoken with an edge of innuendo in them, and Jensen thought it was nice that at least one of them was confident in where this was all headed.

It was on the tip of his tongue to tell Jared to leave, to see what would happen if he denied him what he asked, but instead of biting remarks or insincere apologies, a tiny, “Please,” came out of his lips.

Jared was on him in a second. His tongue once more invaded Jensen’s mouth, and his hand wormed its way inside of Jensen’s pants and undergarments to stroke at the heated skin of his cock. Jared’s thumb rubbed the moisture from Jensen’s slit around as he touched the most private of places.

All that Jensen could do in return was moan into Jared’s mouth and clutch at his broad shoulders. His body strained to be closer to Jared’s, and he didn’t even comprehend why, only that it must be so. The longer that Jared touched him, the more that Jensen craved his touch. He wanted to be owned by the huntsman. Not tamed like one of his dogs, but possessed nonetheless.

Jared shoved impatiently at the lacings to Jensen’s breeches with his one free hand, and it was only as Jensen helped him undo their knot that he realized how wanton he was being. He was giving it out like a whore at the tavern, but as his pants slid down to his knees, he couldn’t bring himself to care.

The air felt cool against his skin, and he could hear the slick sound of Jared moving over his flesh, pleasuring him with that large hand, and it was too much. Too dirty, too wrong, too right… Jensen came in spurts on his own kitchen floor like some hussy who didn’t realize that the bedroom is the proper place for relations to take place.

“Good, good, my beautiful husband. Take your pleasure from your spouse.” Jared praised him softly, and Jensen tried to block the words out, but he was unsuccessful. It was shameful to give in as he had, but he enjoyed Jared’s praises even though he knew them to be wrong.

Gasping a little, Jensen tried to relieve some of the weight that he was resting against Jared.

Taking his shifting as some sort of sign, Jared took one of Jensen’s hands in his own and guided it to rest against his own erection. It was even warmer against Jensen’s palm than the rest of Jared body had been. The firmness of it was foreign to him even though he had touched himself often enough since puberty.

Jared pushed against the gentle pressure that Jensen’s hand provided. His hand pressed against the back of Jensen’s in a clear attempt to encourage further touching.

It seemed unfair to take without giving. It wasn’t as if Jensen had not already played the part of whore, so he made an excuse for himself and squeezed at the hardness. Jared moaned out his approval in an obscene way, and Jensen just lost himself.

One moment he was standing and giving hesitant respite, the next he’s upon his knees mouthing at the leather that covered the huntsman’s cock. The leather was soft and supple, but the scent of it was strong and masculine. It was Jared’s scent, and Jensen could not deny that he craved it.

He licked at the leather. The flavor was disappointingly void of Jared, and there was no way that the man could have felt the gentle touch through his covering, but Jared still moaned out an encouragement and thrust his crotch towards Jensen’s face.

It was unseemly, but Jensen thrilled at the prospect. He nuzzled in against Jared in response, rubbing his face against the hardness.

“Like a cat more than a dog,” Jared panted out as he threaded his fingers into Jensen’s hair.

Jensen wasn’t sure what that was supposed to mean if anything, but he took it to be something good, so he continued to run his mouth over the still encased cock. Over and over again he rubbed himself against Jared, harder whenever Jared encouraged him which was often.

He had intentions of removing Jared’s cock from its trappings, but he kept forgetting. He became obsessed with the scent of the man and the heady power of causing the sounds that Jared was making. He was lost in the feel of the leather pulling across his skin and the sound of his own stubble scraping across it. Experimentally, he bit down on the shaft. The leather eased around his teeth, and he did little more than grip, but it was enough to set Jared off. He moaned and his fingers tightened their grip in Jensen’s hair until it was almost painful.

Jared’s cock twitched and moved right in front of Jensen’s eyes, twisting the stress marks in the leather as it delivered its seed.

“Fuck,” Jared whispered as his hands began to pet at Jensen’s head.

The sentiment was one that Jensen could heartily agree with. He could feel some of his own release beginning to dry on his skin, and he was mortified to know that Jared was practically swimming in his own. Worse still, it was soaking into Jared’s pants and the scent would unlikely come out even if it by some miracle did not make it through to the front of his breeches to visibly stain the leather.

Awkwardly Jensen stumbled to his feet, his own britches hobbling him as they were still caught up around his knees.

Jared smiled at him and stole a kiss as soon as he was upright. Though it wasn’t the passion filled one of earlier, it was still enjoyable.

“You have a wash basin, I assume?” Jared asked.

“Yes. It’s, it’s in my bedroom if you wish to use it.” Jensen told him with a halfhearted gesture towards the room in question.

“I do.” Jared said, as he grabbed Jensen’s gesturing hand and used it to tug Jensen after him.

To his credit, Jared moved slowly so that Jensen didn’t trip, but he did not stop to allow Jensen time to do up his pants. The trip was short enough, and once they were in Jensen’s bedroom, Jared let go of his hand to move to the washbasin.

He dipped the cleaning cloth in the water. Jensen averted his eyes not wanting to intrude upon the man’s cleansing even though it appeared to be Jared’s intent was that he do just that. It was a surprise when Jensen felt the cold dampness of the cloth press against his own sex.

Jensen let out a gasp and stared at Jared in horror. Jared just smirked.

“You are most strange. You were rubbing your face against me not five minutes ago, and yet you worry about a little cleansing?” Jared asked as he rubbed the cloth around Jensen’s genitals, wiping away the drying come.

“It’s different.” Jensen told him, putting as much force and determination in his words as he could.

“I suppose it is. More intimate, less lustful.” Jared conceded as he held the cloth up for Jensen to take.

“What am I supposed to… oh.” Jensen mumbled as Jared sat down on the edge of Jensen’s bed and began to pull his boots off.

Of course Jared expected reciprocation. Why wouldn’t he?

“You should disrobe as well. It’ll feel less strange.” Jared advised without looking up from his task.

“And you have experience in this?” Jensen snapped even as he agreed that he needed to at least do something with the state of his pants.

“Jealous? There’s no reason to be. I will be an ever faithful husband to you.”

“You are not my husband.” Jensen stated flatly.

“No. You’re right of course. We haven’t actually achieved consummation.” Jared said as he pulled his shirt off and then stood to shove his pants off. Jensen spied the dark mess on the inside of them for a brief moment before he looked away, began to fiddle with his own fastenings and tried not to think about how he had caused the mess.

It was difficult to get undressed with only one hand, but he was too flustered to actually think about putting down the cloth so that he had both hands free. By the time that he finished with his task, Jared was not only naked, but spread out on Jensen’s mattress, his thighs spread wide showing off the damp and dark curls that adorned his balls and the wetness that covered the entire area.

Jared’s fingers were twisting in the leather cord that held his vial of potion or whatever it was that he wanted Jensen to drink, and his face was decidedly naughty.

Swallowing, Jensen took a step forward as if in a thrall. His own sex rolled heavily between his thighs as he moved, and he could feel the beginnings of lust begin to take root in his belly once more. He crawled up the bed on his hands and knees, and his hand shook as he pressed the cloth down between Jared’s thighs, cleaning the mess that remained between them.

Keeping his strokes gentle was not a problem. He had sympathy for how sensitive the area would be after climax. It was keeping his touches impersonal that he had a problem with. This was no sponge bath given to the ailing or a helpless child. The flesh under his fingers was hale and hearty, and he could not keep his fingers from mapping out the shape of the softened penis.

Jared’s breath started coming faster, and he sat up. Jensen moved back on his haunches, and they stared at each other for a moment before Jared threw himself forward and pinned Jensen underneath him on the bed.

Their kisses were desperate. Frighteningly more so than the ones that they had traded in the kitchen, and the feel of Jared’s skin against his own almost had Jensen forgetting about the uncomfortable sensation of having his head hit against the footboard of his bed.

He dropped the rag over the side of his bed so that he could run his hand over the planes of Jared’s back. Like a hussy, he tangled his more muscular, if shorter, legs with Jared’s. He could feel Jared’s cock begin to stiffen and lengthen against his skin, and his own responded in kind.

It had to be some sort of magic for he hadn’t been able to have such recovery time since he was a young adolescent ripe with angst and the changes of adulthood upon him.

“I need to rut with you.” Jared gasped as he pulled away from their kissing.

Jensen frowned and pressed his hips up against Jared more firmly. Wasn’t that what they were doing?

“No. Not… well any other time, truly I’d be happy with that, but… we need to mate. Like the horses do.” Jared mumbled, something close to embarrassment stealing across his features though Jensen was certain that the huntsman was incapable of such an emotion.

He chose not to ask about Jared’s discomfort, instead replying with the witty, “I am not a mare.”

Jared laughed and shook his head. “You are preoccupied with informing me of things I already know.”

“I have nothing for you to…” Jensen trailed off as Jared reached between his ass cheeks and fingered at his hole.

“You jest. It is too small.” Jensen denied instantly.

“How do you think that the married men in your village do it?” Jared asked.

“My brother said that they, the rubbed against each other. That they consummated by using each other’s mouths.” Jensen mumbled.

“Older brothers shouldn’t always be believed. Mine told me that the villagers were going to try to marry me off to a goat. Shot every damned one I saw for months until mother became upset with me for upsetting the prey balance so decidedly.”

“Although,” Jared continued, “mouths do have their share of benefits, so I suppose your brother didn’t lie to you so much as omit certain truths.”

“It will hurt.” Jensen protested.

“A little perhaps,” Jared agreed, “but it will be very pleasurable for you.”

“If it’s so pleasurable, why don’t you do it?”

“Because,” Jared responded as he rolled Jensen over to his stomach.

“Oh, that’s informative.” Jensen grumbled even though he didn’t fight the movement.

“Shh, hold still a moment.” Jared whispered before leaving the bed.

Jensen watched his bare ass sway as he moved out of the room, and watched his bobbing penis upon his return. He could admit to himself, if not to Jared, that the view wasn’t bad.

There was a bottle of oil in Jared’s hands. It smelled sweet when Jared loosed the stopper and proceeded to dribble at the base of Jensen’s spine and into his crack.

Large fingers massaged the oil into Jensen’s back before they travelled down to rub the slippery stuff against his pucker. For long minutes he tensed, and Jared grunted and then his body apparently decided to give up the fight because he went from being strung as tight as one of his instrument strings to a loose whatever with three gigantic fingers up his asshole.

“Jared,” he whined, feeling full and yet unsatisfied at the same time, “do something.”

Grunting, Jared pulled his fingers out and poured yet more oil in the area. He pulled Jensen onto his hands and knees before positioning the head of his cock at his entrance and pushing in slowly. It felt bigger than Jensen knew that it was, and the stretch burned, but Jensen didn’t ask for him to cease his movements.

Instead he whimpered and moaned and writhed backwards, instinctively seeking the feeling of being penetrated. His body seemed to crave the sensation, and he wondered how he could have lived in it for all his years and not known that it could desire such a thing.

“My husband, mine.” Jared growled in his ear as he worked himself deeper inside.

“Yes,” Jensen whimpered, “yours. Jared, yours.” The words felt strange on his tongue, but soothed the angry part of himself that had always been seeking for somewhere to belong.

“Grab hold,” Jared instructed once he was finally all the way in.

Jensen gripped his footboard obediently. He no sooner wrapped his fingers around it before Jared began to pull out and thrust back in. His cock battered at Jensen’s insides sometimes sending flashes of pleasure as it moved across a certain spot, sometimes leaving Jensen with nothing but the feeling of being used to bring pleasure to his huntsman. His mind couldn’t decide which it liked better, so he merely moaned aloud and tried not to think of the unbearable hardness between his legs that was leaking fluid onto his bed covers.

“Mine, finally, mine,” Jared groaned as he slammed in a final time, coming inside of Jensen.

Jensen whimpered and shifted at the feeling of warmth spreading inside of him. It tickled in a way, and that did nothing to relieve the hardness between his own thighs.

Bracing himself on one hand, Jensen reached down to touch himself. He got in half a stroke before Jared was pulling out with a slick pop and rolling him over to his back. There were no kisses, heated or otherwise. Jared merely bent down and suckled at the head of Jensen’s cock until he reached completion.

His seed got everywhere. Globs of it landed on his stomach, but others found their way onto Jared’s chin and even his hair.

“Don’t you ever pleasure yourself?” Jared asked incredulously as he gestured at the mess that Jensen had made.

“I’ve got a stream of your seed coming out of my ass. You have no room to complain.” Jensen told him.

He rolled to the edge of his bed to retrieve the cloth and slapped it against Jared’s chest when he plucked it off the ground. “Rinse this out, would you?”

“Barely married and you’re already nagging me.” Jared complained.

“Not married. No ceremony.” Jensen said lazily before his eyes shot open. “Mother is going to kill me. I’ve been fornicating with a, a whatever it is you are without the blessing of the priest.”

Jared didn’t look amused by Jensen’s proclamation. He looked decidedly abashed.

“Actually, there was a ceremony.” He admitted.

“What? When?”

“The council was obligated once you let the hounds in to extend their blessing to our union. They contacted me and arranged for my arrival.”

“But there were no vows accepted.”

“You accepted me into your body.” Jared said with a shrug.

“You tricked me! You said you wouldn’t!”

“I said I hadn’t.” Jared corrected.

“But, that can’t possibly suffice to marry us.”

“No, you’re right. It wouldn’t alone.”

“But?” Jensen prompted.

“You aren’t going to like this.”

“I have no doubt. Tell me.”

Jared turned and pulled something out of the rumpled blankets. The vial from earlier dangled from his fingertips, and it was empty.

“It isn’t meant to be ingested exactly.” He said with a shrug.

Jared spent his first night as a married man sleeping on Jensen’s front step with his damned dogs.


End file.
